


Dad Zone

by courfeyracyoutakethewatch



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (aka Cole Mention), A Lot Angst, Child Death, Gen, Jealousy, Kid Fic, Police, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sibling Rivalry, Sort Of, a little fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-17 02:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courfeyracyoutakethewatch/pseuds/courfeyracyoutakethewatch
Summary: I wrote a kid fic cause I have high standards. And @saltslimes bullied me into it.Connor and Nines are imported into child and toddler android bodies respectively. They have to live this way for two weeks until their bodies can be repaired. Hank is given the task to take care of the DPD's finest (and most expensive) assets. Trouble, and cute ensues.





	1. Don't Make Me Sleep!

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This isn't a fluff only kid fic. It's not very happy yet. There will be some heartfelt moments. There will also be some very NOT. I feel I should warn about this because lots of kid fic's tend to be 100% feel good. 
> 
> Things that there are NOT: Sexual content (They're KIDS), Abuse/Violence towards children, Child Death that is Not Cole. Also, No Hankcon. I'm not against it, but I'm going for Dad!Hank in this one, folks. Also it would be super weird.
> 
> Things that there will be: PTSD and triggers, Emotional Trauma, References to Substance Abuse. And Gav900. What? How is that not going to be weird? It is. We'll cover that when we get to it. No, there will be no romantic or sexual contact between a toddler and a grown man. This isn't Twilight. 
> 
> I think that about covers it? Thank you for taking the time to read this far! Hope you enjoy the rest!

Connor isn’t waiting outside the station when Hank gets to work on Monday. This isn’t abnormal. But he isn’t waiting inside at his and Hank’s desk either. And he doesn’t show up when Hank goes out for lunch, and by the time Hank is starting to pack up for the day to head home, he’s resigned himself to the fact that Connor just isn’t showing up today.

At least Reed is also suffering, if the pile of unorganized paperwork and clutter of paper coffee cups on his abandoned desk is anything to go by.

Reed’s partner, the RK900 activated post revolution who now goes by Nines, was part of a drug raid with Connor last Friday. The intel they had received placed them at a supreme disadvantage: what they thought was an easy bust turned out to be a front for a much larger operation, and they had gone in undermanned and unprepared.

Connor and Nines bodies were destroyed beyond repair, and they had made no arrests that night. Thanks to some dramatic self sacrifice maneuvers that Connor had executed that night (that Hank had to seriously talk to Connor about someday), Hank had escaped mostly unscathed, save for a couple bruises and a whole body full of soreness.

He thought Connor would just show up and business would continue as normal. He knew it was a possibility he wouldn’t, CyberLife being an android run company now, and Connor being treated as a relatively normal android citizen now rather than a science project. He had to wait for repairs like everyone else, now that there wasn’t a hundred backup Connors for him to download his memory into.

The negative part of Hanks brain wondered whether they could repair him at all, whether he was ever going to see Connor again, but Hank shut that thought train down as quickly as it started. Connor was just going to take a little longer to bounce back, this time around.

It didn’t help that Hank kept seeing him out of the corner of his eye throughout the day, only for it not to be Connor, leaving a weird disappointment in his chest.

Hank’s about halfway through closing out all the digital files he’s been going through on his desktop when Fowler shouts to him. He’s making his way to the front of the station at a slightly more than casual walking pace, and it’s clear he wants Hank to follow.

They get to the main entrance where the android at the front desk has called them. She’s out from behind the counter, kneeling before a very upset child who’s holding an even smaller toddler, also upset. She looks relieved when Fowler approaches, clearly at a loss with the situation. Hank follows a couple steps behind, but stops dead in his tracks when the child looks up at him, relief suddenly blooming on his face as he yells out.

“Lieutenant Anderson!”

“Uh…”

Hank’s wracking his brain for where he knows this kid. Potential family of a victim? Maybe a child of a friend? Nothing comes immediately to mind, and it’s clear he’s now taken too long to answer, as the child goes back to upset.

“Lieutenant! Don’t you recognize me?” He shifts towards Hank, adjusting the crying child in his arms that he’s struggling to hold onto. “It’s me, Connor!”

Hank and Fowler share a look. It’s clear that neither of them have a clue what’s going on.

Connor hoists the toddler he’s carrying up onto his hip, but his grasp on the little boy is slipping, and his tiny arms are straining from the struggling child. He’s impatient now.

“Hank, it’s me! Please, I’ve come back to work. I know that I don’t look how I usually do, but I can explain. I was going to explain when I got to you, but she stopped me, and, and…”

He trails off as Jeffrey Fowler crouches down in front of him.

“Son, how ‘bout I hold that boy while you tell Lieutenant Anderson here what’s going on.” He holds out his arms gently to take the crying child, but Connor grips his hands tighter into the child’s shirt. His face pinches, and he shakes his head, silent.

“It’s okay Connor. I’ll stand right here with you, we won’t be going anywhere. I just want to help. C’mere, son.” He makes a motion with his hands, ushering Connor closer.

Connor reluctantly hands the toddler over to Jeffery, who scoops the baby up expertly and holds him to his chest, bouncing and softly talking to him. Connor wrings his hands. Jeffery looks at Hank pointedly, then Connor, and back up at Hank who just stands there, dumbfounded.

When they both just stand there looking at each other for another beat, Jeffery sighs, and takes Connors hand.

“Why don’t we talk in my office?” He strongly suggests, and then leads the way with the two boys before Hank can even respond.

When settled, Connor explains that the toddler is actually Nines, placed in a new model of android baby. It was modeled off of human baby, around twelve months old. As for him, he was uploaded into a YK, around the age of five years old. Both being of the child line, they were made to blend into society, which explained the lack of LED’s, and civilian clothing both boys were wearing.

“We just have to live with these bodies, until our superior bodies can be repaired.” Connor explained to Hank, both sitting in the chairs in front of Fowlers desk.

Hank leaned back and crossed his arms. “I don’t get it. Why the child models?”

“Manufacture of adult android bodies is… complicated. There’s a lot of regulation around the production of new adult consciousness, with laws being decided about resources and overpopulation and so on, there’s a lot of red tape around the production of new bodies.” Connor recites stonily. “Child androids however, are a little easier. Many couples post revolution found themselves wanting to start families, and so… the toddler line. And many more child androids, of various types.”

Hank tilts his head back and stares down his nose.

“It was what was available, Hank.” Connor bites, frustrated.

“A-huh.” Hank says in his way that means he doesn’t believe Connor. “And why upload you two to new bodies anyways? Why not just wait until your old ones are fixed?”

This leaves Connor without a comeback for a minute. The child body processors are clearly inferior, Hank thinks, it takes a lot more effort to throw a question at Connor that he can’t answer, or at least deflect from. Hank feels a little bad, too, because Connor looks pretty frustrated at this situation as well as he flounders for something to say.

“The cases… I mean, our work is important! I’m still an asset to the police. I am in an android child body, but… I’m still me! I have information! I can help!”

Hank leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Connor, yeah, you’re still you, but do you really think you can still do all the stuff you used to do in that body? Leap across buildings, chase down criminals? I highly doubt you’ve got the tongue sensors to analyze a crime scene, and not that you’re allowed to, but if you did shoot a gun, you’d blow your damn arm off!” Hank huffs at Connors stubborn pout. And gets an idea. He digs in his jacket pocket, and tosses something at Connor.

Connor reaches his arms to catch it, but the small object slips through his clumsy fingers and rolls under his chair with a metallic cling, and his childishly large eyes widen even more with recognition of the sound.

Hank scoffs a laugh, but Connor is stubborn. He glares at Hank as he gets off the chair to retrieve the quarter. “You didn’t even let me try yet!”

He grabs it and stands up straight in front of Hank. It takes two hands to get it to balance in his smaller than normal fingers, which Hank rolls his eyes at. Connor scowls and glares even harder. He takes a deep breath, holds his other two fingers out, scrunches his face in concentration, and flicks the quarter.

It lands somewhere near Fowlers feet, and rolls towards the door of the office.

Hank stands, and clasps his hands together. “Okay, well that settles that. You’re not fit for duty, and Nines over there is an infant, so that’s it! We’ll just call up Cyberlife and tell ‘em thanks, but no thanks, for that genius idea. We don’t need any child cops, so we’ll just take you two back and you can get your regular old bodies back in two weeks when they’re done.”

“NO!” Connor shouts and stomps his feet.

“Connor, can you be reasonable about this? It’s just two weeks, you won’t miss much, and the DPD will still be here when you get back.”

Connor shakes his head, visibly upset. “No! I’m not going back to sleep and you can’t make me!”

And with that he pushes past Hank and runs out the office door.

Hank throws his arms out in exasperation, and runs a hand through his hair. Then looks at Jeffery. He’s still rocking Nines, who’s surprisingly calm for all the yelling, his soft head resting against Jefferys shoulder, rosy cheek imprinting the texture of his suit jacket. Jeffery is giving him a Look.

“Oh, don’t give me that. I’ll go get ‘im.”

Hank gives a quick look over the precinct, and when he doesn’t immediately spot him, Chris points him over to Connors desk. With a nod of thanks, Hank heads over. His knees crack and he has to balance himself with on hand on Connors desk to get low enough to peer under it.  
Connor sits there, arms wrapped around his knees and deliberately not making eye contact. 

“Connor, come out from under there.”

Connor shakes his head and hides his face in his knees. 

“Oh, come on kid.” He pauses, waits for Connor to give, and when he doesn't, he settles on the floor beside him with a sigh.

“I didn't know you'd get so upset about this, okay? I still don't really get it… It can't be that bad, can it? Connor?”

Connors voice is muffled in his pant legs, and Hank has to prompt him to repeat himself without talking into his knees.

“I'm scared…”

He lifts his head and his eyes are red and his cheeks are damp with tears and snot. A feature the YK has to make them more human that the RK did not, apparently. 

“Please don't make me go back, I don't want to! Don't make me!” And with that his breath catches again as he starts to cry, and Hank feels just awful.

“Okay, okay.” Hank pats him awkwardly on the back, in an attempt to soothe. “None of that now, we'll figure something out. I'll… make sure they don't send ya back.”

Connor sniffles, wipes his nose with the back on his hand and sleeve. “Promise?”

Hank's saved from having to make a promise he's not sure he's allowed to keep by Jeffery strolling over with a sleepy Nines on his shoulder. He's finished touting him around to the moms in HR, and has come to see how Hank's doing.

“You look pleased.”

“Haven't had a little one in years. Feels like forever since my girls were this small.” Jeffery runs a hand over Nines soft feathery hair. “They grow up too fast.”

Hank grunts, stands up from the floor. Connor gets up too, and clings to Hanks pant leg. Hank tries to detach him, before suddenly getting an armful of toddler handed over.

“Huh? Why're handing this to me.” Hank more demands than asks.

Jeffery crosses his arms. 

“Oh, come on Jeffery. You're not asking me what I think you're asking me.”

Fowler snorts. “Asking? No, no, I'm telling you. This is now part of your job description. Paid leave, take care of the DPD's finest assets until they can take care of themselves again. I'll see you three back here in two weeks.”

Hank wilts. “Certainly there's gotta be someone better for this job. Literally, anyone.”

Jeffery frowns. “Hank, you and Connor were close. Are close.” He corrects, glancing at the android still clinging to Hanks leg. “That counts for something.” 

Hank grasps for straws, looking around. “What… what about Reed? He's Nine-Hundreds Partner.”

Jeffery actually scoffs at that. “Reed broke his collarbone, if I remember right.” Jeffery lowers his voice a tad, “and even if he wasn't injured, you really think Reed is the man for a childcare job? Besides, Hank. Let me be frank. You're a single man, no kids, yet you've got child rearing experience. It's an ideal situation.” 

Hank grimaces, but knows he's been out played. Fowler places a firm hand on his shoulder. “Go take your two weeks. Who knows,” he smiles and brushes Nines cheek with a finger, “you might even enjoy it.”

\---

Hank takes the boys out to the parking lot, and gets all the way to his car before realizing there's no way he can safely get Connor and Nines home without some kind of car seat. 

“Public transit it is then…”

Hank has Nines on his lap and Connor clinging to him on the seat next to him on the bus to his area of town. They ended up in the area for families with strollers, and seniors, which just makes Hank even more in a mood. He gets smiles and looks from other passengers that he has to force himself to politely return. He knows what he looks like to them. A nice grandfather, spending time with his grandkids. Maybe they even think he's too senile to drive. It makes his stomach roll, and he can't help but keep thinking, “this is FUCKED,” over and over again.

When they get home, Connor finally detaches himself in favour of greeting Sumo. Hank is silently thankful, and he immediately flops down on the couch with Nines. He's exhausted, and he's only had the kids for just under an hour.

Hank grabs his tablet, and adjusts on the couch so he's lying down with Nines settled on his chest. He fusses slightly, but he seems to be equally tuckered out from the whole affair as Hank is. 

He tries to get through some basic pdfs on the YK and BT information pamphlets, but he can feel his eyelids start to feel heavier and heavier, and lets the pad slide into the crease of the couch as he shuts his eyes.

\---

 

“Hi Sumo…” Connor is crouched down before the large old dog, resting his body on the cool linoleum of the kitchen, head on his paws. Connor usually can scan Sumo, he remembers how their relationship works. Connor knows what Sumo needs before he needs it, and Sumo, grateful at Connor for saving him the trouble of having to communicate his needs to his human owner, gives Connor plenty of physical affection for his troubles. 

Connor can’t scan him now. He can’t scan anything. 

He reaches a tentative hand to pet Sumo’s muzzle. Sumo huffs and allows it, but when Connor tries to get closer and more enthusiastic with his pets, Sumo gives him a small nip for his trouble.

“Ouch!” Connor quickly holds his hand to his chest. Pain is also new. 

Well, it’s not entirely new, but now he experiences it in a new way. There are no error messages that tell him what’s broken, what's malfunctioning to make him feel this way. It just hurts. It feels bad. Sumo’s gone back to resting, but Connor feels betrayed somehow. 

He tries to be logical. Reasonable. He knows Sumo’s resting. He doesn’t want to be bothered. He could have known that before all this if he could scan things. If he wasn’t inferior. Stupid.

This makes tears well in his eyes again, and he quickly rubs them away, standing up. He wants Hank.

He finds him in the living room, asleep on the couch with Nines. Nines is curled under his chin like he belongs there. A pang of something curls in Connors chest. It also feels bad. 

It makes him think of a memory. When he first learned RK900 was coming to work at the DPD. He had a sick feeling from the start, but he had tried to be positive. Told himself that now that there was no Amanda, no Cyberlife, they could be friends. Brothers, maybe. He’d have liked that, having someone that knew personally what happened inside of his head. Their heads. 

It’d hadn’t been that simple. 

He goes to tug on Hank’s sleeve, but stops his hand mid reach. Hank is resting. He doesn’t want to be bothered. His arm drops back limp by his side. It’s quiet in Hank's house, the only sounds being slow breathing of sleep, and the occasional brush of untrimmed shrubbery against the windows. 

Connor knows this house, knows Hank’s right in front of him. But he feels alone. Suddenly wants to be alone. So he goes.

\---

Hank wakes up to Nines snuffling and whining. He’s trying to get down from the couch, but his feet can’t reach the ground and he’s gotten himself stuck. Hank rubs his eyes. 

“Right. This is a thing now.” Hank sits up on the old rugged couch, and scoops Nines back up and plops him back on the couch. 

Then he hears Sumo whining and pawing at his kibble bowl in the kitchen. He checks the digital clock on the media player under his tv. Dinnertime. 

Hank stands, stretches out his back until it pops, and shuffles over to the kitchen to feed Sumo. He puts a couple of scoops in his bowl, and Sumo immediately starts scarfing it down. His stomach rumbles.

“Heh. Me too pal.” He looks over at Nines in the living room. He’s got two hands on the armrest and clearly wants to get down, but hasn’t quite figured out the sofa yet. Hank chuckles to himself. 

“You hungry too, Nines?” Nines just pouts. Ah. He figures Nines probably doesn’t even know what hungry is yet. No need for a forensics detective to have to actually require food. Kid robots? Different story, from what little Hank had gleaned from the pdfs. 

He opens the fridge even though he knows there’s nothing they can eat in there. Pizza it is.  
Hank fishes his cell out from his pocket, and though he knows what he wants on a pizza, he’s got no clue what two android kids will eat. He looks at Nines. He’s got a feeling he won’t mind pineapple too much. Connor though…

Hank looks around the living room. Where’d the kid go?


	2. The First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys survive their first night home.

Where’d the kid go?

“Connor? …..Connor?” Hank called. He suddenly could feel his heartbeat beat a little faster. No, maybe he was asleep somewhere. Couldn’t hear him calling. Maybe that was it. 

Hank started checking rooms. He opened each door, scanned each room, moved quicker every time he turned up empty. “Connor! Connor!”

Garage, bathroom, bedroom. Nothing. Supply closet. Nothing. His hand hesitates over the handle Coles old room. He yanks it open. Nothing. 

That’s it, thats the whole house. He’s not here. He’s not in the house. Hank’s breathing shallow now, and he grips his hair with both hands. Tries to breath. Backyard! Backyard garden. He dashes out the back door. No. Nothing. Nothing.   
He’s struggling to breathe properly now, can’t inhale a full real breath. He can’t hear anything except the blood rushing in his ears. Maybe they’re ringing. He can’t tell, he can’t think. All he knows is that this was a mistake. Such a fucking mistake, leaving him with kids, it’s happened again, and it hasn’t even been a day yet, such a failure. Failure as a dad, as a parent, as a caretaker. He needs help. He needs help now. 

Hank fumbles with his cellphone, hands shaking as he struggles to dial.

“911 operator, What’s your emergency?”

“A child, a boy went missing, there’s a boy missing,”

“Sir, can you tell me where you are? Where is your location”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… it's 115 Michigan Drive, but I checked the house, he’s not in the house, I don’t know where he is,”

“Is he your son, sir?”

“No, no…. I was just taking care of him, and I can't- I lost him, it's all my…” Hank's vision starts to blur, and he knows this now. He's having a panic attack.

He knows, because what it really feels like is a heart attack. Tight chest, trouble breathing, heavily sweating. The works. PSTD, the therapist had said. From the accident. Crazy, Hank had thought, that out of all the work he did as a cop, an unrelated car accident is what he got it from. He hadn’t had one in a while. He supposed it was bound to happen, in this situation. 

Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. 

The operator was still talking to him. “Sir, sir-”

“Yeah, yes,” Hank rasps, “Uh, yes, he’s around 5, 6 years old, brown hair. Brown eyes. Caucasian. He’s, uh… he’s an android.”

There’s a pause on the line. 

And oh, Hank thinks, now he’s really going to lose it. 

“Can… can that even happen?”

Hank feels like he’s losing his mind. 

 

“Can it HAPPEN? It’s HAPPENED. It’s HAPPENING, and it’s going to continue to happen until you dispatch someone! Anyone! He’s just a boy, he’s a kid, he doesn’t know anything! Every second we waste he’s getting farther and farther away, so if you don’t-”

“Sir! Sir, I’m very sorry sir, we’re getting on that right away sir, please hold,”

“HOLD?!” Hank roars into the cell. He’s pacing now, back and forth in the living room, debates calling up the DPD himself, he’s a goddamn cop for chrissakes, but he absolutely, cannot deal with this Right Now. Connor could be kidnapped, snatched up, being sold and torn apart for parts, being strung up and drained of his blood and turned into red ice and- 

There’s a peep from the hallway. Hank’s whole body freezes and he holds his breath.

“H-Hank?” He turns. Connor’s in the hallway, in one piece, looking very small and sheepish.

“Oh thank christ.” he exhales. Louder, into the receiver, he says “Uh. You can, uh, cancel the dispatch. We uh, we’ve got him. We found him. Sorry. False alarm.” And he hangs up and lets the cell phone drop to the ground. 

He walks over, drops to his knees and wraps Connor in his arms, pulling the small boy to his chest. He feels the tightness in his chest release, and feels like he can breathe again. He’s here. He’s safe. He’s not abducted. Not mangled. Not dead. Thank. Fuck.

Connor tentatively returns the hug, small hands grasp his shirt. “Are… are you mad at me?”

Hank can’t help but laugh. “Connor! Yes, I’m mad!”

Connor's already crying. Hank pulls back, looks at him, holds his shoulders. “Never, EVER, do that again Connor. Christ, I swear… I don’t even care where you were hiding, just- just don’t do it.”

Connor nods, tearfully and snottily, and wipes his face messily with his sleeve. 

“Connor, why’d you hide? You’d had to have heard me calling, why’d you hide?” 

“Y-you were sleeping, an’ Nines was sleeping, and Sumo doesn’t like me, and I was all by myself and…” Connor hiccups, and trails off, unable to look Hank in the eyes. 

“And you were feeling lonely? Sad?” Hank helps. Connor nods. Hank takes a deep, steadying breath. He formulates a lecture. Scraps what he was going to say, because it sounds too much like a lecture he would give Cole. Reconsiders, because maybe that’s what he needs. 

Connor winces, and Hank realizes he’s still gripping his shoulders tightly. He immediately lets go. He raises a finger. Decides against it and puts it down.   
“Listen… Connor. I know you’re in a new body, and things are different, and you’re not so good at the logic thing anymore,” Connor pouts and rubs his tear stained cheeks. Hank tries again. “Uh, what I mean is, just… just tell me when you’re having these feelings. Kids have big feelings! It’s not your fault, you don’t know how to deal with them yet. Connor, if you need anything, and I mean anything, just come get me. I don’t care if I’m asleep, or busy, or whatever. That’s kinda my job now.”

Connor blinks for a second, and nods. Hank sighs. “Look, just use your words. That’s all I’m asking.”

Connor nods harder, and throws himself into Hanks arms again. He wipes his face on Hank’s shoulder. Hank pauses, then returns the hug, wrapping his arms around Connor’s shoulders. He tries not to remember Cole at this age, and fails miserably. He rests his cheek on Connor’s soft brown hair and sighs, wistfully. Then gently pries Connor off him.

“Okay, kid, let’s get some food in ya.”

\---

Hank deals with EMS calling back, has to double reconfirm everything's alright, and even offers to let an officer come down and check out the situation before the operator and him agree it's unnecessary after all. 

The call to the pizza place is much easier. He gets one for him, and one for Connor and Nines to share. Best to have leftovers, he figures. 

 

He clears the kitchen table off best he can, and finds some old large books for Connor to sit on. Nines gets to sit on Hanks lap, so he can cut his slice into chubby baby finger sized pieces.

Nines happily smushes them in his uncoordinated fingers, before shoving it in his mouth, sauce all over his face and hands by the time he gets it in his mouth. Hank laughs.

“Yummy, huh Nines. You like the Pizza?”

Then he looks over at Connors plate. He’s picking at the pepperoni’s. 

“You don’t have to eat those, just pick em off. Try ‘em first, you might like them.”

Connor takes the tiniest sliver of pepperoni off the pizza and takes an even tinier nibble, before making a face and gagging dramatically.

Hank snorts. “Alright, no pepperoni for you.”

Connor removes all the peperoni as best he can, making a pile on his plate before returning to dissecting his slice. He picks at the cheese, before peeling that off too. He makes a face at the remaining sauce, but he cant remove all traces of the marinara, so he gives in.

He stares at his plate, then Nines. 

“Can you cut mine too?”

Hank shrugs, drags his plate over, and cuts the desecrated pizza slice into slightly larger chunks than Nine’s. This seems to satisfy Connor, and he eats a couple pieces before deciding he’s done, and hops off his chair to go watch tv on the couch.

Hank figures he can police his eating habits later, make sure he’s getting enough food eventually. He just wants to get through this night first. Nines is a slow eater, mostly due to his lack of coordination, and Hank helps himself to Connors mountain of pepperoni slices while he waits. 

“What kinda kid doesn’t like pizza?” He mumbles, mostly to Nines. Connor thankfully doesn’t hear him, or the kid would probably fight him on that. That’s just plain Connor, the argumentative detail focused personality that comes through in his child personality just fine. 

After wiping Nines mouth, and shirt, and hands after he’s finished eating, they all end up on the couch watching disney movies. Hank would usually watch whatever game was on the sportsnet, but that’s absolutely not happening, so disney movies it is. Connor’s enraptured by them, anyways. He hugs his knees under the blanket Hank lays over all of them, and can’t tear his eyes away. Nines on the other hand, barely pays attention. He’s a little young, Hank guesses. At least he seems to like the music.

When Nines gets too bored of the movie, he gets fussy and starts trying to escape the couch. 

“Okay, bedtime it is.” Hank decides, pausing the movie. Connor whines, but doesn’t make too much of an argument, since he seems to be barely staying awake as it is, eyelids fluttering and drooping.

Hank grabs some extra pillows and blankets, and tucks each of the boys on either side of the couch. It’ll do the trick, at least until they can get some proper beds for them. 

“Everyone good? Glass of water? No?”

Connor shakes his head and wriggles down in the comforter, buring half his face underneath the quilt. 

“Alright. Sleep tight, guys.”

And Hank makes to leave, except Nines makes the first real complaint he’s made since he’s got here. He is half heartedly crying, reaching for Hank with grabby hands. And Hank looks at him. Looks back at Connor. And sees Connor looking at him hopefully.

He sighs, and gives in. “Alright, alright, gimmie a second.” And he grabs the blankets and pillows off his bed, and sets up on the floor beside the couch.

“But just tonight. I’m not doing this tomorrow.”

\---  
Fowler comes by the next morning before the kids are even up to drop off some car seats. 

“We got rid of ours a long time ago ever since Jasmine, our youngest, grew out of them. Didn't think we'd have to deal with more baby stuff until grandkids.” Jeffery laughs, “Which I hope is still a long ways away. But Patti 'cross the street had these in her garage since her daughters kids just recently graduated to no seats. Anyways, she was happy to lend em to us.” 

Hanks barely listening, half asleep still and Connor and Nines are shuffling around in the living room behind him. 

But he thanks Jeffery anyways, and invites him in for a cup of coffee while he gets the kids ready to go out. Jeffrey's offered to drive them down to the station to get Hank's car. He'll need it, with all the supplies he'll have to be buying today. Thank god it won't have to be coming out of his paycheck.

Connor and Nines have no change of clothes, no toothbrushes or combs to get ready with, so the process is short and quick. 

Hank pats Connors bedhead down, gets both Connor and Nines to eat some toast, straights out the wrinkly clothes they all slept in as best he can before getting them to the door. Jeffery helps wrestle Nines tiny shoes on while Hank helps Connor with his laces, and they make it out the door in one piece. 

“So how's our leads on the case, Reed back at work yet?” Hank chats with Jeffery in the car as he drives them to the precinct.

Reed's been discharged, though he's got a full leg cast and a neck brace quite heavily limiting his mobility. He's been confined to desk duty for at least two weeks, which is probably for the best considering how he used to be without Nines. 

Which means no new leads, but he's working on it from the precinct. Fowler seems hesitant to talk any more about it though, glancing at the boys quietly strapped into their chairs in the rearview mirror. 

Hank glances over his shoulder too. Right. He had almost forgotten some things they couldn't discuss anymore around their former co-workers.

They say goodbye to Jeffery in the parking lot, and then Hank works on restrapping the carseats into his car. Connor and Nines are no help, playing in the front seats while Hank strains his back. 

Connor is rummaging through the passenger glove box, and Nines has his little fingers all over the dash buttons. 

Hank sighs. “Cut it out, Nines. Connor, make sure he doesn't break the radio…”

Connor pries Nines fingers away, and Nines whines and wriggles out of his grasp, before slamming his hands and all his weight forward onto the steering wheel, and the horn.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

“Jesus Christ! Quit it!” Hank quickly grabs him from the backseat as they attract the attention of the whole parking lot.

Both Nines and Connor seem to find this extremely funny.

“Okay, now you BOTH are banned from the front seat. Get back here, and let's get a move on.”

Hank straps them both into their chairs and starts up the car. Next stop, the Baby Supply Store.

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to @saltslimes for beta-ing some of this! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! I'm a student, so I don't have an upload schedule, but I'm very highly motivated to finish writing this for personal reasons. So, see you in the next chapter?


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